It’ll be tense, but it’ll work. At least, I sodding hope so.
The hard part would come if they discovered Mass alive. Tony had strict orders to kill Wickstaff’s most decorated soldier, but no way was he going to do it. He refused to kill an innocent man just to solidify Thomas’s illegitimate claim on Portsmouth.
Tony checked his ammo pouches, ensuring he had enough clips and magazines. He also filled a hip bag with loose rounds to make sure he had enough ammunition to obliterate anything he might encounter. He still carried the worn SA80 he’d had since leaving the US Air Force base in Turkey. It hadn’t let him down yet. To think his journey had started a year ago on the Iraq–Syrian border, only to end up back home in England. He’d never expected to ever have to fight on home soil.
Tony’s men assembled in a line and snapped to attention. Tony turned to see General Thomas approaching in full army dress – medals and all. The skeletal-faced old man marched across the tarmac on the outskirts of the docks, toecaps tapping an ominous rhythm. The regimented click-clack was a sound Tony had once enjoyed, but today it felt like a ticking clock.
Tony stood to attention and saluted just lazily enough not to get reprimanded. Thomas returned the salute and stomped to a halt mere inches away, close enough to make Tony uncomfortable. “Colonel Cross, are you ready to depart?”
“Yes, sir! The men are kitted out and mission ready.”
“And what about you, Colonel?”
Tony frowned. “Sir?”
“Are you ready to carry out your orders?”
“I understand what needs to be done, sir.”
General Thomas stood in silence, studying Tony’s face. When Tony refused to give anything away, Thomas relented. “You’re a good man, Colonel, which is why I have provided you the very best men Portsmouth can spare. This mission must succeed, and I have the utmost confidence I can trust you to do the job. Your service to me these last few months has been invaluable and you shall be properly rewarded upon your return.”
Tony nodded curtly. Thomas’s subtle attempt at bribery meant nothing to him. As a colonel, Tony was already several tiers higher than he’d ever planned to be. All he desired now was the chance to sleep a night in peace. His head was so full of nightmares that he wondered how he even managed to keep sane. “Thank you, sir. I’m grateful.”
General Thomas saluted. “Then you should get going. Sooner you leave, sooner you get back.”
Tony turned to his men, still standing at attention. “You heard the General. On the double. Move, move, move!”
The men formed pairs and marched towards the defensive wall that ringed the docklands. Tony snapped off a departing salute to General Thomas and joined them. He didn’t look back, but he felt the old man’s stare. Thomas didn’t trust him, which meant the twelve men he’d sent would have orders to shoot Tony if he did anything off the books – maybe even if he followed his orders to the letter. It was only because Thomas lacked concrete evidence of Tony helping Maddy escape the city that he didn’t just hang him. He couldn’t deal with the PR disaster that would follow a colonel’s execution one week after the death of a ranking general. Thomas was a despot dressed in democratic robes. He needed the veneer of fairness.
Tony shouted a cadence, hustling the men along. The bastards could suffer a little. “’Eft-’ight, ’eft-’ight, ’eft…!”
The men picked up speed, heading towards the city and the dangerous countryside beyond. Tony took one glance back towards the sea, certain he would never see it again.
Diane shadowed Thomas as much as possible, always dropping off reports here or checking supplies there. Whatever she did, she always made sure to do it close to the general. The only problem was keeping her hands off him. Every second she spent breathing the same air as Thomas filled her with an almost uncontrollable rage. She wanted to claw out his cold grey eyes. She wanted to force her hand down his throat and yank up whatever rotting innards she could find. She wouldn’t rest until he was dead. For General Wickstaff and for Maddy.
And for Portsmouth. We deserve someone better after all we’ve been through.
Diane missed Maddy terribly. She was the only other survivor from their original group in Crapstone. No more Rick. No more Keith or Daniel. Their loss was a staple beneath her thumbnail, a constant dull pain, but losing Maddy was like hot coals in her stomach, a searing agony burning up her insides.
So far, Thomas, the sonofabitch, hadn’t seemed to realise what Diane was up to. Her true purpose for shadowing him was to see who was loyal to him and who was not. She could tell those who disliked the general by the strained expressions they wore as soon as he turned his back. Diane was in the business of recruiting those people. Nineteen had already agreed to take up arms against Thomas when the time was right, and many more would soon join. Wickstaff had inspired all those around her, so finding people willing to fight in her name was easy, but she had to be cautious about who she approached. Some men were only out for themselves. Some men placed their loyalties wherever it would help them most. Trustworthiness could never be assumed.
It made recruitment a slow process.
If Diane gave a rebel yell from the rooftops, she knew several thousand men and women would scream allegiance to Wickstaff and take up arms. The flaw in that plan was that it wouldn’t be enough. General Thomas had brought more than fifteen thousand troops with him from the continent, and it would be impossible to retake Portsmouth without persuading at least some of them to join the cause. Tony Cross was the lynchpin to converting many of those forces, but Thomas had shrewdly sent the colonel away on a fool’s errand. Mass was dead, that much was obvious – he’d never been away this long. Tony Cross would most likely never return from his mission.
I’m running low on allies.
Commander Klein was in favour of General Thomas’s removal, too, but the German was a law unto himself, preferring to stay out of things until forced to act. She couldn’t rely on him. Maybe he would help her once enough people had been recruited. That was why she was heading to speak with a guardsman named Tom, her next recruit.
Tom was a good guy who’d gone to bat for General Wickstaff several times in the past, including a time when Thomas had directly challenged her authority. He was popular – someone other men instinctively seemed to like – and Diane was certain he would join her cause. Tom stood up for what was right.
And what I’m doing is right.
Diane found Tom sitting on a crate by the edge of the quay. Four others sat with him, all playing cards. It was hard to tell if they were on duty because only Thomas’s men wore uniforms. The original Portsmouth inhabitants wore whatever suited them.
“Hi, Tom. You busy?”
He looked up at her and smiled. “Does it look like it?”
“Depends how good your hand is.”
Tom threw down a trio of cards – a four of clubs, a two of spades, and a ten of hearts. “As good as tits on a donkey.” He stood up and moved further along the quay, motioning for her to join him. In a conspiratorial tone, he asked, “What’s going on around here, Di? Me and the guys are getting nervous. People are saying Maddy had something to do with Wickstaff’s death.”
Diane sneered, wanting to slap him for even saying such a thing. “You know that’s bullshit!”
“Of course I do. It’s no secret how close Maddy and Wickstaff were.”
Diane didn’t comment on Maddy’s relationship with the general, but it didn’t surprise her to learn that Tom – and most likely others – suspected the two women had been more than colleagues. Would it affect people’s loyalties? Were people still judgemental, even now?
“Thomas murdered Wickstaff and would’ve killed Maddy too if she hadn’t escaped.”
Tom nodded, glancing aside to make sure no one was listening. He whispered, “I guessed as much. Commander Tosco is missing too. I assume he was the one who got her out of the city? Both were a huge part of what we built here. Portsmouth is their home. We can’t let Thomas get awa
y with it.”
As Diane suspected, Tom didn’t need convincing. “We won’t let him get away with it, but I don’t have a plan yet. I need to know who I can trust.”
“You can trust me – and a dozen others I know would leap at the chance to rid Portsmouth of Thomas. The guy’s an arsehole. A murderous arsehole.”
Diane chuckled. She went to say something, but their eyes locked for a moment and made them both blush. She finally spoke. “Hey, um, if you’re not on duty, you fancy going for a walk or something? I could use a friend.”
“A walk? Um, yeah, a walk would be nice.”
Diane motioned with a nod and they started walking along the quay. Tom bid his mates goodbye and moved close enough that their arms brushed together. He glanced at her. “So, did you ever see yourself becoming leader of La Resistance?”
She laughed, the sound making a seagull take flight from a piling. “To tell the truth, when the demons first invaded, I was a trembling mess. People kept dying around me, but somehow I kept surviving. For a while, I thought it was luck, but then I realised it was something else.”
Tom smiled gently, his brow lowering with concern. “What?”
“I was being punished, forced to watch everyone die while I cowered. They got to escape the nightmare, but my own hell kept getting worse and worse. Surviving is my punishment.”
“You make dying sound like a good thing.”
“Not good, but… easier. My fear got people killed, so I gave myself a talking to. I stopped being a pussy and got my shit together.” They both chuckled, but Diane’s smile quickly faded. “The problem is that people still keep dying, no matter what I do. They keep dying and I keep surviving. It’s filling me up, all this… anger.”
Tom put a hand on her back and rubbed. He removed it a second later but didn’t appear embarrassed. “People have always been dying, Diane. That’s what makes us human. What matters is how much we fight while we’re alive – and you’re fighting harder than anybody else – but be careful, okay? What you’re doing is dangerous.”
“I’m not doing it alone. Everyone who agrees to help me is risking their lives.”
“Then you must be worth the risk.”
They reached the end of the quay, an area occupied by several empty warehouses. Portsmouth was a big city with only a fraction of its former residents, not to mention the many people who now lived on boats instead of dry land. There was a lot of wasted real estate. Coming to a halt, Diane turned to Tom. “Are you sure you want to do this? It could all end terribly.”
He smiled. “Do you know why I joined the navy? It wasn’t to fight bad guys or be a patriot. I just didn’t want to work in a supermarket or factory. I never took the job any more seriously than I had to. But then things changed. The demons came and suddenly I was watching civilians leap into the sea and drown rather than face the horror at their back. I watched mothers throw their children from burning buildings, fathers torn apart trying to defend their families. We helped as many as we could, but by the time our ship retreated, the sea was red with blood. After that, I took the job seriously. Mankind doesn’t just have to survive, Diane. If it has any future at all, it needs to survive with the right people in charge. Thomas has to go, and if whoever takes over is half as decent as Wickstaff, we might have a chance. We’ll make it happen, Diane. No matter what, okay? We’ll make the bastard pay.”
Diane shook her head, not out of disappointment but out of shocked admiration. “How can you be so sure this is the right thing to do? How can you be so sure about me?”
Tom averted his eyes and looked down at his feet. It was cute, but only because he was normally so confident. “Wickstaff was sure about you, Diane. You and Maddy were the two people she trusted most, and if she trusted you, then so do I. Not to mention, you’re pretty intimidating. The guys say you have the biggest pair of bollocks in Portsmouth.”
It shocked Diane to hear that people talked about her. She had assumed herself invisible. It was part of what made her so effective as a bodyguard, until she had failed dismally by allowing Wickstaff’s murder. She placed her hands on her hips and felt a little pissed off. “You think I have a pair of bollocks?”
Tom blushed. “What? No! Not literally. You’re all woman. I mean… look at you…”
Diane glared a moment longer, but her irritation had already disappeared. Now she was just having fun. It wasn’t the first time she’d spoken with Tom, but with Maddy and Wickstaff gone, she realised how much she missed having someone to joke around with. By agreeing to help, Tom had become her friend. There was trust between them.
I can trust him.
Diane reached out and clutched the front of Tom’s shirt. She walked backwards, pulling him along with her. “I’ll show you what’s between my legs, and I promise it’s not a pair of bollocks. Come on.”
Tom turned bright red and his eyes went comically wide. It didn’t stop him from following her into the abandoned warehouse.
Morning broke and Diane awoke with a smile on her face and an aching in her back. The aching was caused by the rickety cot bed she had slept on in a small office inside one of the civilian customs buildings. The smile on her face was due to having had sex last night. Rain had come to the desert.
Hallelujah!
Tom was lovely. A spark had hit her out of nowhere and suddenly she was into him, a teenager with a crush. She wasn’t embarrassed though. Tom was an upfront kind of guy, which meant she was in no doubt about the fact that he liked her too. There were no games being played. It was okay to be vulnerable. At least a little.
Last night, they had hung out in the abandoned warehouse for three hours, having sex, chatting, laughing, and kissing, both of them naked and shivering. For a moment, life had felt ordinary, but in the dawn of a new day, things weren’t quite so bright. She was still a member of a post-apocalyptic society with a despot in charge. Despite that, she’d formed a connection with another human being, and it meant she could open her heart to more than hate and anger. It was enough to keep the rage from overtaking her completely.
I can keep a little piece of myself for Tom. I can feel something other than a need for revenge.
Diane couldn’t let herself be distracted too much by lust and love. Thomas still needed dealing with, and her life was in danger every second he lived. For the first time in a long time, anxiety began to strike her with its venomous fangs. Part of her wanted to run away with Tom, to find somewhere isolated and safe, but that frightened part of her had no place in this world. That Diane was an echo of an unacceptable past.
It was time to get up and go. While Thomas hadn’t reassigned her duties since taking charge of Portsmouth, he hadn’t relieved her of them either. Most days she went through the motions of maintaining security, pretending to safeguard Thomas, while actually plotting his death. For today, she would take a break and make herself useful around Portsmouth. If she pursued her agenda too often, she would give herself away. Now and then, she had to carry out her duties and nothing more. It allowed her to remain invisible – a knife Thomas would never see coming.
She put on clothes, shivering while briefly naked, then drank from the gallon jug she topped up with water every night before sleeping. Several of the larger boats had desalination facilities on board, and they kept a regular flow of processed seawater coming onto the docks. People had to fetch their own supply, but there was enough to go around. They also caught as much rainwater as possible on days when it was wet, and you couldn’t go ten feet without passing some sort of catcher or butt.
She left the customs office five minutes later and entered the muggy atmosphere of the civilian docks. The air was thick with a fishy stench. A majority of the daily catch came from the several dozen fishing boats along the coast, but some preferred to catch their own supper from the civilian docks. Diane had been learning the ropes from a couple of the older guys, but she rarely found time to cast a line.
Along with the odour pollution was noise pollution. It came from the
military wharf – the busiest part of the docks. This morning the noise was particularly loud. She heard shouting and jeering, like a protest was happening. Too many buildings stood in the way to see what was happening, so she decided to ask a fisherman named Mitch. The old man was working nearby, cutting up some mackerel to use as bait for something larger. He noticed her and smiled through a gap in his fuzzy white beard. “Morning, Diane. You look fresh as a daisy.”
She smirked, struggling to hide her naughtiness at having had sex. “Hi, Mitch. Hey, um, what’s going on over at the military wharf?”
“I would’ve thought you’d have known all about it. General Thomas has found the rotten apples what plotted to kill Wickstaff. Maybe he’s caught that murderous wench, Maddy.”
Diane’s fists clenched, but she willed them back open. Mitch was a good guy at heart, but not a thinker. He would happily eat up whatever news was spoon-fed to him by those with larger intellects. If people whispered that Maddy had killed Wickstaff, Mitch’s simple mind would accept it as fact.
“Maddy wasn’t involved in Wickstaff’s death, Mitch. Trust me, okay?”
“Then why’d she scarper?”
Diane sighed. There would be little point in explaining. “I don’t know. Anyway, what are you talking about? Who are they saying plotted to kill Wickstaff?”
“Don’t know. Keep to myself, don’t I? Hope they string the bastards up, whoever they are. I liked Wickstaff. Everyone did.”
At least they could agree on that. “I’ll see you later, Mitch. Good luck fishing.”
“I’ll share my catch. You look like you could use a good meal, lass.”
Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 143
